I Know How This'll End but I Don't Care
by Hope You Will Always Stay
Summary: It's her senior year of high school. Amelia knows how relationships end during this stage of a teenagers life, especially when it's with the player of the school who does the nasty with every girl he can get his hands on. She has her friends, she has her life together, but she's slowly becoming unwound by the stress and that stupid Russian isn't exactly helping her problems.


_**Chapter 1: The Brit and the American**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia!**_

 _ **A/N: I just wanna write something happy for once.**_

* * *

 _Selfish, taking what I want and call it mine_  
 _I'm helpless, clinging to a little bit of spine_  
 _They rush me, telling me I'm running out of time_  
 _They shush me, walking me across a fragile line_

 _I sold my soul to a three-piece_  
 _And he told me I was holy_  
 _He's got me down on both knees_  
 _But it's the devil that's tryna_

 _Hold me down, hold me down_  
 _Sneaking out the back door,_  
 _Make no sound_  
 _Knock me out, knock me out_  
 _Saying that I want more, this is what I live for_

 _~Hold Me Down, Halsey_

* * *

Jerking her locker open, she grabbed her things for her first period, Spanish III, and set out to find Arthur. Usually he was hanging around the restrooms, smoking a cigarette inside the school for as long as he could before he got yelled at by a teacher. She found him exactly where she thought she would, dressed in their shitty school uniform which made them all look like preppy assholes in her personal opinion. For the guys it was black dress pants, a white dress shirt, and a blue cardigan that had to be buttoned up at all times. During the summer they were more lenient but still gave out detentions if you were too out of uniform. For the girls it was similar, they had to wear a black shirt with black tights underneath and a white dress shirt and blue cardigan. However, as the length of the skirt wasn't specified, some of the more risqué girls like Maria Beilschmidt always ordered their skirts a size too small which made it _much_ shorter than it should be. Not that the guys minded, not that even the _girls_ minded, but it always sent the principal and teachers into a tizzy.

However, when Maria gets sent to the office for her too short skirt she just asks them why they were looking at her ass in the first place. To be honest, Amelia looks up to her fellow senior as a role model. Probably not the best role model but still the fact remains that that albino chick is badass.

Approaching her friend, she tried to hide her smirk as she saw his formerly green hair now blonde with a slight green tint. Arthur had tried in vein to dye it back to blonde but that stubborn hue remained in his hair and would probably remain for some time. The Englishman tried to convince Amelia that he had changed his ways since their sophomore year, when he was a full out punk, and that their junior year had been his reform year. However, despite how punctual and proper he was, the holes in his ears and nose had not yet grown over and he still smoked and she still caught him rocking to Black Flags and The Who quite often. Lets not even get her started on when he was drunk, as that was a whole other can of worms she wasn't willing to ever open.

"Amelia, love." He smiled, nodding in her direction as he took another puff of his cigarette, "You're early today."

"Sup, bro." She tossed her books on the floor beside him and sat down so she could lean her back against the wall, "Mrs. Johnson hasn't complained yet?"

Arthur snorted, "Not yet. Tell me when you see her coming and I'll duck in and toss my ciggy in the toilet. She said she'll give me detention the next time she catches me and I don't think my mum would appreciate that."

Amelia gave him a look, "You wouldn't think a gentleman would smoke."

"All the gentlemen do it, love, keep up with the times." Arthur blew out smoke into the air, a smirk curling his lips

Rolling her eyes, the blonde girl sighed, "Maybe that's why there are no good men left. All the 'gentlemen' got lung cancer and died."

Her friend gave her a look but still continued to smoke his cigarette while Amelia looked over her Spanish notes for the test they had the next period. Class didn't start for another forty minutes, but her mom had to go into work early today and her stepdad was already at work so she really had no choice in the matter. She couldn't exactly buy her own care despite having a license, after all she worked at McDonalds part time after school. She wasn't rolling in money, and neither were her parents. Her mom worked two jobs, and her stepdad could barely hold the one he had. That's one things she and Arthur really had in common; among all the rich kids who went to this school that was located in the better part of town, they were both dirt poor.

Glancing up from her notes, she saw a woman with greying hair and pursed lips coming towards the bathrooms at a quick speed. Blue eyes widening, Amelia smacked Arthur on the arm, causing him to look at her in annoyance. However when he saw Mrs. Johnson rushing down the hallways, he quickly rushed into the bathroom and left Amelia alone in the hallway. When the old teacher finally made it to the restrooms, she sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose.

"Kirkland was here, wasn't he, Mrs. Jones?" She spoke, a frown marring her face

"No, ma'am." Amelia shook her head, blonde waves swaying as she did so, "I haven't seen him yet today. I came in early so I could look over my Spanish notes again and he said tow wait for him here."

The woman huffed, "I don't see why you hang out with that trouble maker. You're such a sweet girl and he's...he's...a truly wretched child."

Amelia smiled sweetly to mask her want to backhand to woman into next week. If there was one things she hated more than anything else, it was when people bagged on Arthur before they even knew him. He had been her best friend ever since his family moved to California when they were both in the 6th grade. By then everyone had already figured out their friend groups and their cliques and no one would talk to the punk-in-training British boy who had already died his hair blue by that point in time. No one except Amelia, that is, who was the slightly overweight girl who had glasses and braces and absolutely no friends. They'd been fast friends and Arthur had beaten up anyone who made fun of her from that point on and he always stood up for her and protected her. He was there when her mom and dad divorced, and when her mom married her stepdad, and when Amelia cried so damn much because no matter what she tried her real dad refused all her letters and phone calls.

He had her back and she had his. When his mom and dad fought, he left his house and walked over three blocks to hers and he'd spend the night there. When his older brothers, who by this point had all graduated and were in college, used to be assholes to him Amelia would be the one to cheer him up. When he'd had no friends and sat alone every day at lunch at the table beside the trashcans because every other table was full and that was the only empty one available, she was the only one that had took the chance and set beside him. It was an odd case of friendship, they both knew this. The loud-mouthed American and the punk-turned-gentleman Brit. It worked for them, though, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

"He's really not that-!"

She was cut off by the old woman, "Well keep studying, child, and _try_ to stay out of trouble, please."

With that she was gone. Amelia huffed, pushing a short strand of blonde hair behind her ear only for it fall back into her face. Scowling she dug in her pencil pouch for a bobby pin because, of course, whenever she didn't need one they were all over the place. Now of course there were none to be found. Because life hated her. Finally she pulled out the thin brown metal clip and pinned her stray hair back. Glancing at the men's restroom, she wondered how long it would take Arthur to flush the cigarette and get back out beside her. Knowing him he was standing in a stall finishing it up because it would be wasteful and wasting a perfectly good cigarette was something gentlemen just didn't do.

"Jones." She heard the heavily accented voice, and her head snapped up

Ivan fucking Braginski. Also known as the schools player, or just the guy who had sex with every girl he could get his hands on. Except Amelia, that is, because according to him she was disgusting American trash. The reasons people hated America all embodied into one person. It would hurt Amelia's feeling...if she actually gave a damn about what the stupid communist bastard though about her. The Russian man had also transferred to their grade, much like Arthur had, except he'd come their freshman year when everyone's hormones were going into overdrive. The girls all saw a new hot face with a new hot accent and the guys all wanted to be friends with him so they had a better shot at his sisters, Katyusha and Natalia. Immediately the tree foreigners were some of the most popular students in the school. Rich, hot, and just generally having a new face that was different than what they'd all been seeing since kindergarten would get you to the top of the high school food chain very quickly.

Out of the three siblings, the only one Amelia found pleasant to be around was Katyusha. She was very kind, motherly almost, and smiled every time she saw Amelia in the hallway. She was also the only one who could control the youngest of the three, Natalia, who had a really creepy obsession with Ivan. Sadly, she had been a senior and graduated last year. That left her with the two remaining Russians and Amelia really wanted to throw herself off a cliff. Ivan was just a complete asshole, the guy had a new girlfriend every week and you always knew when they'd broken up because the majority of the girls would be in a frenzy to line up so they could be chosen as his next play thing. Ivan would just take them out for one date, screw them, and then dump them. Every single person in the school knew how every single relationship of his would end, yet the girls were eager to enter one with him. Some say it's because all of his past girlfriends, all five hundred of them, talked about how goo he was in bed. Then again, some actually thought they could _change_ the Russian man.

Which was impossible because it was Ivan Braginski and he was a fucking asshole.

"Braginski." She sneered, "I have notes to go over so could you kindly piss off."

The guy let out his creepy laugh, throwing one end of his scarf over his shoulder. Seriously though, what kind of person wore a long red scarf every day of school? He even wore it during the _summer_. The only reason he didn't get in trouble for being out of school uniform was because his parents were _loaded_ and gave a lot of large donations to the school.

" _Da_ , you need all the studying you can get. You aren't, what do they call it over here, a _prodigy_ when it comes to academics, are you?"

The way he smiled that shit eating smile made Amelia want to punch it off his face.

"You know what, why don't you go choose your girlfriend for the week?" The American woman snapped, blue eyes narrowing, "I don't have the patience to deal with you and you stupid Russian commie ways! It's Monday, let me study in peace!"

Ivan raised a single, pale eyebrow, "My girlfriend of the week? I'll have you know I'm still in a relationship with Maria."

"Maria Beilschmidt?" Amelia snorted, "You broke up with her two weeks ago and she hates your fucking guts."

He frowned, appearing to be in thought, before he smiled down at her once more, "Oh yes, she was the annoying German one, wasn't she? No, I'm am currently with Michelle. The sweet one with the pigtails."

Amelia scrunched her nose, "Dude she's, like, a sophomore. You're a senior."

"At least I do not date freshman like Francis." Ivan waved off the accusation, "Besides, it'll be over soon anyways."

Staring at him with wide blue eyes, Amelia finally came to the conclusion that this Russian bastard was not just insane. No, he was a psychopath.

"You're sick! Michelle is a really nice girl!" Amelia spat, face turning red

" _Da_ , you are correct. That is why I chose to date her."

Looking at him with wide eyes, Amelia gave out a small laugh, "You literally just said you were gonna break up with her, you bastard!"

"I still enjoyed my time with her."

"Meaning you screwed her." The blonde senior gave out a snort and rolled her eyes, "Why don't you just go get with Natalia, huh? We all know she wants to marry you anyways. She'd be over joyed to be with a scumbag like you, for some insane reason."

Violet eyes narrowed, "Do not bring my _sestra_ into this, Jones."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't be an asshole, then!"

A cruel smile curled on the mans lips, "Are you jealous you can't find anyone except that pathetic Brit to put up with you? I know it must be hard to find anyone to have intercourse with, being a woman of _your size_ , but I'm sure there's someone desperate enough out there. Everyone has a type. I'm sure someone's is fat, trashy, American pigs. You just have to put yourself out there, maybe get down on your knees for some others like I'm sure you've done for Kirkland so many times! You're not attractive enough to be a whore, but I'm sure you could manage-!"

"Shut up!"

He was cut off by a harsh smack to the face. Amelia had shot to her feet and backhanded him, effectively cutting the Russian's words off as he stood there and cupped his bright red cheek. Wide violet eyes stared at the American who stood there in her oversized cardigan, her slim figure shaking with either embarrassment or anger, he honestly couldn't tell. He blonde hair was messy and fell into her blue eyes that were flushed with tears, a few of them slipping down her cheek. Her tan face was bright red as the tears came faster, her hand still open in mid air from where she had smacked him.

"Amelia, love?" A English voice came from the bathroom as Arthur poked his head out, "I heard shouting, is everything-?"

He cut himself off as his green eyes widened, seeing the petite American girl in tears with her study papers fallen around her. When his eyes landed on Ivan, who stood there with wide violet eyes and a bright red handprint on his face, he seemed to instantly know what happened. It seemed like a thundercloud passed over his face as his green eyes turned dark. He rushed over and threw his arm around Amelia's shoulder, practically snarling at Ivan as the girl hid in the crook of his neck.

"Get the bloody hell out of here!" The so called gentleman barked, totally forgetting his manners as he rushed to the defense of his friend, "Get the fuck out of here you goddamned wanker!"

Ivan swallowed and, as he managed to collect himself, he gave them both a sneer as he walked away. He had a girlfriend to dump, after all. Though, as he turned the hall, he could hear the American girls sniffling and cries and couldn't help but wonder if he had gone too far with his insults. That was their _thing_ though, wasn't it? They insulted each other and no one was supposed to get offended! But no, the silly American had to ruin everything as she always did. It was kind of pathetic how easily she was hurt.

* * *

 _ **A/N: So yeah, Ivan's an asshole and Amelia pretends to be tough when she's really a little softy. Let's see how this plays out, shall we?**_

 _ **Question of the Chapter: So...what happens now?**_


End file.
